Trials and Tribulations
by Lady Maria
Summary: AU. Two troubled girls are forced to live with family members that work for the WWE. Neither girl is happy but what can you do when your parents are dead? Taken over by Dawnlady
1. Meetings

Title: Trials and Tribulations 

Summary:  AU. Two troubled girls are forced to live with family members that work for the WWE.  Neither girl is happy but what can you do when your parents are dead?

Pairings: None as of now.

Warnings: This is AU folks; it's not going to follow any particular episode, match, or canon history.

Rating: Pg-13

Final note: No Hellmouth, Slayers or witches in this fic.

Willow Rosenberg was scared.  Shitless, if the truth were told. She'd grown up far removed from her siblings' world, knowing less than most fans. Then her parents had died and at fourteen Willow had found herself here, in LAX, waiting for her flight.  She was meeting up with another girl who was going to the WWE for the first time.  Like Willow herself, the other girl had grown up in California knowing only what she saw on the T.V. 

"Hey, you're Willow right?" a perky blonde asked. "I'm Elisabeth Summers. My mom called me Buffy."

"Yeah, I'm Willow," the redhead stammered shyly. "What do you think traveling with a bunch of wrestlers will be like?"

"I have no idea. I do know I'm petrified. I've never even met my mother's sister's family. Now I'm going to live with the McMahon's for at least four years."

"I know the feeling. I think I've seen my brothers, Matt and Jeff, all of two times. I've seen my sister, Lita, maybe three times. And I don't know anything about wrestling.  I'm more a bookworm than an athlete."

As the pre-boarding call for flight 790 sounded, two troubled teenage girls bonded.

**************************************

Buffy had been through more in her life than even Willow could have guessed.  Her parents had always fought.  Her father was old-fashioned, believing that his wife's only job was that of a homemaker. Joyce had always wanted to be a lawyer but had put aside her dreams to do as her husband wanted her to.  

As Buffy grew, the arguments intensified. Hank wanted his daughter to go to a private school; Joyce believed in children going to public schools because it made them more adaptable. At least, that was what her father had said and it had worked for her and her sister. 

Then the real trouble began.  Someone had gotten Hank hooked on steroids.  Buffy was twelve, almost thirteen, when she started carrying mace at all times.  When he got mad, all she had to do was spray it in his eyes. As the troubles increased, the beatings Hank had always given his wife became worse until she pulled her daughter out of class the day before her fourteenth birthday. 

For three months, the two traveled around the state of California constantly going to one place and then another.  It never occurred to Joyce to call her fraternal twin up and ask for help.  The two hadn't spoken since they'd fought over a boy their senior year in high school. 

And then he tracked them down.  He killed his wife while his daughter perched on top of the shower curtain rod. He didn't think to look up, so he never noticed her. The police tried to get him to give up, to surrender, but instead he turned the gun on himself.

The police had broken down the door when they heard the young girl's sobs. They found her mother gunned down by the bathroom door.  Even as she fought her final battle she'd tried to protect her daughter.  The gunman, Hank Summers, was practically missing half his head and had splattered brains all over the two beds, dead the moment the gun went off.

The blonde girl was still crying as they led her out of the rundown motel room.  The police were deeply disturbed by the fact that was she so young and yet so hardened.  One of the policemen managed to track down her relatives, who were more than upset over Joyce's death. Her grandparents had told them that they couldn't take her in but that Linda would be glad to be able to treat her niece as a daughter. 

And so, that was why Buffy was sitting next to a redhead on a red-eye flight bound for Minneapolis, on her way to meet her Aunt Linda and Uncle Vince. They even had two kids, Stephanie and Shane. Steph was her age, they'd told her during the course of the one phone call they'd had. Shane was a year older and already training to be a wrestler.  She could only hope that her new-found relatives were nice. 

****************************************

Willow's life wasn't as spectacularly hard but it certainly hadn't been easy.  She'd been abandoned by her parents for the most part, left to raise herself.  Because she had been forgotten by her parents, she'd often hacked into their accounts and taken the money she needed. She doubted that her siblings even realized the way her life had turned out. 

Jeff, Matt, and Lita Rosenberg had been the product of Dr. Michael Rosenberg's first marriage. All three had grown up living with their mother's brother.  Their mother had died when Jeff was born. When Matt was eight, Lita was seven, and Jeff was five, their father remarried. 

Four years later, Willow had taken her parents by complete surprise.  They hadn't wanted a child, and would have gotten rid of her but it had been too late for that.  By the time they found out, Karin was already in her second trimester. 

For awhile, they'd had to pay attention to her.  She'd been too young to take care of herself. Then she started preschool and the nanny started taking care of her full time. By fourth grade, they didn't even come home for holidays. They simply mailed money at the beginning of every month.  About the time she started 7th, however, they had decided she didn't matter anymore. 

But to the girl who'd grown up in San Francisco, hacking was as normal as breathing and she put her skills to good use. She never took any more money than she needed and she never did anything that could be traced back to her.  As far as the bank was concerned, her parents were the ones that put the money in the account every month.  Willow never enlightened them. 

Two weeks before the start of Chanukah, she received a letter. Not even a week later, the contents were still fresh in her mind. __

_Ms. Rosenberg,_

_While in Rome your parents decided to visit a museum. A policeman thought that they looked like two suspects that were wanted in a murder case.  He called for them to stop in Italian but they didn't understand him. He did as was told to, which was fire if the suspects proved to be uncooperative. He fired four rounds, two shots for each of them. Both died immediately.  I am very sorry._

_Your parents left you so many trust funds that the day you turn eighteen, you will be an extremely wealthy young woman. Until that time, you must live with someone and your parents named your older half siblings as your guardians. _

_Again, I express my condolences to you on behalf of this firm._

_Arthur Michaels_

She'd been taking care of herself for years, and she'd never needed her siblings watching over her.  Now her parents were officially dead to her and she had to leave San Fran. How abso-bloody-lutely typical of her parents.

******************************************

Both of them were caught up in their own thoughts, almost forgetting that the other existed.  Then the flight attendant came around with dinner and they chose the same thing.

Looking over at her seatmate, Buffy recognized the same hurt look that she often wore when she thought no one was watching. "What's your story?" she asked the red head.

"What do you mean, 'my story'?" Willow questioned, looking up from her laptop.

"Why do you have to go live with siblings you've seen only a couple times?" she clarified.

"My parents finally died.  Unfortunately, my day of happiness was marred by the fact that they'd named my half-sibs as my guardians.  So, here I am."

"You're not telling me all of this, are you?" 

"No, I'm not.  I'll tell you more, someday. I promise," Willow said with a half-smile.

"My parents died, too," Buffy told her.  "My dad killed my mom and then killed himself."

Willow's eyes filled with tears on Buffy's behalf. "Poor you."

"No pity," the blonde said firmly. "I can't stand pity.  I have relatives I've never met who are anxious to meet me. How many people can say that?"

The last question caused both girls to laugh, breaking the tension. And with that, both of them drifted off to sleep.


	2. That's What Family is

**A/N: It took me quite awhile before I reached the conclusion that in my story Vince will actually be a likeable bastard.  Wasn't something I wanted to do, but the story wouldn't have worked otherwise.  Oh, and recall that most of this is set in the past due to the fact that the wresters are all younger than they are today.  However, I'm keeping the name as WWE instead of WWF. **

When they arrived, Willow quickly figured out that Buffy didn't like waking up. The first clue was the muttered, "Five more minutes."  Then, Willow ended up being slugged after which Buffy finally woke up. 

"I'm so sorry. I should have told you that I can get violent," Buffy started to apologize immediately.

"Relax," Willow said.  They were collecting their luggage from over head and she shot the other girl an easy-going grin.  "I don't like waking up either."

"Still," Buffy persisted, "how many people have you punched while waking up?"

"Good point," the redhead finally conceded, "although I have been known to get vicious during my period."

The two girls were still cracking up as they walked onto the concourse.  Willow, who at least knew what her relatives looked like, spotted the group from the WWE immediately. "Come on, I think they're over there."

"How is it that you don't seem the least bit scared and I want to wet myself?" her companion muttered.

Willow smiled at the blonde before sighing. "I lived in San Francisco, on my own, and hid the fact that my parents never came home.  I learned how to get really creative when it came to excuses, but before they left for good, I'd never lied in my life.  This is nothing compared to the terror I used to feel about lying."

"Damn, at least I knew my mom cared."  Buffy had had a rough childhood, that was true but she was telling the truth; at least her mother had cared.  "Maybe living with your siblings won't be as bad as you think it will be."

"And maybe it'll be worse," the other girl replied sharply.  "Give me a computer and I can work wonders with it; make me be social and I puke."

Lita overheard the younger redhead's sharp reply and her jaw dropped.  She hadn't figured that her little sister might have stage fright. "Willow, I'm Lita."

"I know who you are," she said, turning with a scowl.  "The red hair kinda gives it away, doesn't it?"

The girl standing next to her little sister frowned. "Willow, please be nice.  As I've already said, at least you know your relatives."

"I'll be nice, Buffy, if you are."

The only reply from the newest McMahon was a soft muttering that sounded a lot like, "_Bitch."_

"I know I am but what are you?" Willow asked with a teasing smile.  To Stephanie, who was standing next to Lita, pressed firmly against her best friend, Jeff, it was clear that the other two teens had forgotten that they existed. 

"I'm Stephanie McMahon," she said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the teasing but knowing she had to.  "Rainbow-Boy is Jeff Hardy and Mr.-I've-Got-A-Stick-Shoved-Up-My-Ass is my brother, Shane.  The dark-haired, anal looking one is Matt, and my dad and mom are waiting in the car."

In unison, Buffy and Willow cracked up again.  As she caught her breathe, Buffy managed to choke out, "You are extremely hilarious.  I think I might actually like living with ya guys."

"And I may absolutely hate living here, but I'll deal," Willow added. "Because, you know, humor goes a long way towards raising a girl's spirits.  And the higher a girl's spirits, the more likely it is you'll be able to actually find her."

"You mean that if you wanted," Lita cautiously asked, "you think that you could run away and lose us even if we followed you?"

"Yes, I do believe that," Willow stated firmly. "However, I'm not even going to try to.  I'm going to give the family thing a shot and, who knows, I might actually like you."

Matt had been watching his youngest sibling quietly; he hadn't made a single comment.  Watching her, he realized that growing up with their father hadn't done a lot for Willow.  She seemed to have a shield of ice around her…and it was definitely there because she wanted it to be.

He could recall what the other two couldn't; he remembered every single time their father had forgotten that he had children.   And he remembered the pain he felt each and every time that happened. 

"Do you like violence and fighting?" he asked slowly, his southern accent sounding so strange against her West Coast one and Steph's Connecticut accent.   Jeff, Lita, and Shane had all managed to lose their accents but both he and Steph still had strong accents. 

Willow tilted her head towards him as they walked to the baggage claim.  She'd known her sibs had grown up in North Carolina, of course, but Lita was the only one she'd ever had much contact with.  One had to admit, she didn't have much of an accent, and besides, it had been eight or nine years since Willow had last seen Lita.  

Realizing that Matt was still waiting for an answer, she shook herself out of her thoughts.  "It's okay, I guess, but I'll never be the wrestling type.  I have really bad stage fright."

"That's alright," Matt smiled at the jaded teen. "Lita didn't like crowds either, when we first started, and I still hate them.  Why don't you just try to learn some of the simpler moves and then we can figure out a way to beat the stage fright?"

Willow contemplated this brother she'd never known, who acted like he might actually like her.  Hell, he acted like he might actually like it if she let him be her big brother.  Wow, besides Oz, who'd only ever wanted sex, no one had ever cared for her.  For her, that was a big revelation.  "I'd like that, I guess."  She offered her siblings a tremulous smile. 

Jeff fairly beamed back at her. "You and Buffy will be getting an education right along with Shane and Steph.  Linda will home school you the way she home schools them.  I think you'll like living with us and I have to teach you the Swanton Bomb!"

Willow had to gape at her older brother.  While Jeff was the youngest of her half-sibs, he was still nine years older than her.  But he wasn't acting like he was nine years older.  It was more like he was acting like he was nine years old.  And, "What the _hell_ is a Swanton Bomb?!"

"I second that," Buffy spoke up.  They'd started to migrate towards the baggage claim by then, but Buffy had been quiet.  She had been observing these new cousins of hers, wondering what their lives had been like growing up with parents who cared.  The girl, Stephanie, seemed nice enough.  Of course, Stephanie's blonde hair was no more real than hers but that just meant that blondes weren't natural in their family.  

She couldn't make heads or tails of Shane although she figured she might grow to like him.   Willow's siblings seemed nice and she wasn't looking like she was going to bolt anymore.  That was a very good thing. "Once again, what the hell is a Swanton Bomb?" Buffy repeated Willow's question impatiently.  

Shane watched his cousin carefully as Jeff explained exactly what a Swanton Bomb was.  She flinched slightly, which showed that, most likely, she had a small problem with violence. Hell, who was he trying to kid?  His little cousin had a right to have a problem with violence after what she'd been through in her life.  

He wouldn't try and kid himself; he wasn't very big brotherly around Steph, but Buffy seemed to incite those feelings in him.  Buffy seemed to be older than Steph just by her attitude, but Steph had grown up on the road, knowing exactly how to protect herself.  The only people he ever wanted to protect her from were potential boyfriends. Buffy, for all that she'd grown up in a war zone, didn't have the same fighting skills.  That was one thing that he knew they'd all be working to rectify in both of the new girls.  "Mom and Dad are looking forward to meeting you, Buffy.  Mom was really upset that she didn't know."

Buffy looked over at him, her light blue eyes solemn.  "Even if she had known, Mom wouldn't have accepted her help.  She was always stubborn about accepting help and she definitely didn't want to impose on any of her family."

"Family's there for you to impose on," Steph said heatedly, getting in on the conversation. "That's what you're supposed to do, because they love you and care for you."

Willow snorted.  "Family doesn't do that.  Friends sure as hell don't do that.  If you rely on yourself, then you don't end up disappointed."

Buffy nodded quickly. "Exactly.  My mom loved me and all but she had her own life, her own fears. If she'd lived, she wouldn't have wanted a grown-up me coming back if a relationship went sour."

"Bullshit," Jeff jumped in.  "That is pure bullshit.  Every single time something goes bad, I know that I can go back to the man I consider to be my father instead of my uncle.  Steph's right, that's what family does.  That's what love's about."  Matt had warned them that Willow had probably been ignored, but he'd figured that Matt had been bluffing a bit.  This jaded young woman…correction, girl…though, had defenses upon defenses, and it obvious that things had happened that had been worse than just being ignored.

Willow gave a hollow laugh.  "Maybe in your experiences but in mine, love doesn't exist."

"Love exists for everybody, sweetie," Lita murmured.  Inside her brain was screaming for her to take her little sister in her arms and hug her sorrows away.  Realistically, however, she knew that wouldn't work. Although she wanted to kill her father for hurting her sister so much, there was precious little they could do now that he was dead.  He was dead, but the damage had long since been done.

"Oh?" Willow's eyebrows rose sharply. "Our father and my mother never gave a damn about me.  My first boyfriend was with me cuz he liked the sex.  I've heard people call it lovemaking, but our sex wasn't that.  It was fucking, plain and simple."

Matt inhaled sharply.  "You and Buffy are too damn young, but so damn jaded.  Love is unconditional, you two, and the five us are offering our love to you.  We want to be your family and so do Vince and Linda.  Will you please give us a chance?"

The two exchanged a glance as the group walked out of the airport.  In the end, as they approached the limo, it was Buffy who spoke.  "We'll give you a chance.  And is that a freaking limo?"

"That's just the car," Steph shrugged.  She'd grown up with limos and five-star hotels, so it didn't faze her a bit.  "Well, quite gawking already, Mom and Dad _are waiting, you know!"_

Willow was still gazing at the car as well. "It looks like a scary town car on length steroids."

That remark caused everyone to burst into laughter.  Willow just pinned them with her gaze and said, "Well, it does!" 

Buffy glanced balefully at her other cousin; she was hoping he wasn't as insane as Steph. No such luck; he pushed her and Willow towards the, to quote the redhead, scary town car.  

Inside the limo, Vince and Linda looked up to see a blonde and a redhead.  Linda started to grin, even though she felt like crying.  "Hello, I'm Linda.  You must be Elisabeth and you must be Willow.  It's nice to meet you.  Both of you can call me Aunt Linda."

Willow met her gaze head on, even though her eyes were threatening to fill with tears.  "I'm not related to you; why should I call you Aunt?  Hell, why would you _want me to call you Aunt?"_

"Willow, I want both of you to feel that you can talk to me the way you would with your favorite aunt.  Actually, I really want you to both _think of me as your aunt."_

Vince, on the other hand, had been observing the teens.  While he didn't mind showing affection towards his own children, he wasn't comfortable showing it towards people he'd just met, family or no.   His son was much like him, which was why the fact that he'd felt so protective of the girls was so odd. 

"It's nice to meet you both," he said stiffly. "I'm usually in Connecticut, so I won't be seeing much of you.  However, if either of you wants to stop being on the road, you're welcome to pay a visit to Stanford."

"Alright," Willow stammered, feeling at ease around Linda already but very wary of Vince.  

"I agree with Wills," Buffy seconded.  "Oh, and Aunt Linda, I'm called Buffy."

"Buffy," Linda tested. "Sounds like a nickname Joyce would think of."

"It is," she said with a grin.

"My sister," Linda muttered, shaking her head. "Only she would think of a nickname that rhymes with Fluffy."

"I so take offence to that," Buffy protested. "But if you really wanna you can call me Beth."

"How about this, sweetie," Willow said, as the car headed towards the hotel. "Outside of the ring, you'll be Beth Summers and inside of it, you'll be Buffy McMahon."

  "Sounds like a new beginning to me," the blonde said.  She flashed the others a bittersweet smile as she grabbed the soda she was drinking and proclaimed, "To family and new beginnings!"

"To family and new beginnings!" was the echoing cheer.  While they were all caught up in their own thoughts, three of them were thinking thoughts different from the others.

To Linda McMahon, it wasn't only a new beginning; it was also a second chance at being a part of a piece of her sister's life.  It had been because of a boy that she'd stopped speaking to Joyce and it was because of a man—that boy's older brother—that she had a niece to start over with.  At the same time, it was also a time of putting the past behind her.  Putting her sister—her dead twin—behind her.

For Vince McMahon, the blonde and the redhead were the future of the WWE.  Sure, he was sad that the two girls had lost their parents but he was a pragmatist. He saw dollar signs just looking at the girls.

As far as Matt Hardy was concerned, he was going to be the big brother that he hadn't had the chance to be with Willow.  He was going to do all he could to reverse the side effects she'd suffered from growing up a Rosenberg.  He'd grown up a Hardy and loved every moment.  He was going to make damn sure she got the same enjoyment from life.

**A/N: 200 sentences, four and half pages, 2252 words, and a flighty muse.  It figures that my muse is a hyperactive dachshund. Damn it, why couldn't I have a normal muse?!**

**This is the longest chapter I've turned out to date. Go me! Sorry, I've already had too much sugar.  Well, don't ask me when the next chapter will be done; I really don't know.  I will attempt to get it out faster than this chapter.**


End file.
